


In Time

by just_another_classic



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-03 21:49:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12155463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_another_classic/pseuds/just_another_classic
Summary: "As Emma falls back into the portal, she thinks of one thing: home."Instead of returning to the barn with Hook, Emma gets sent even further into the future.





	In Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PhiraLovesLoki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhiraLovesLoki/gifts).



> Happy almost-birthday, Phira! Beta credit goes to starlessness.

The portal swirls behind her, Hook and the other woman already gone to the other side. Emma isn't sure how long it will last or if her magic will hold long enough for her to follow. Rumplestiltskin's grip is an iron vice on her wrist. How she had never noticed his strength before now, she does not know.

"I loved him too! I wanted to save him!" she shouts, pleading with him to let her go home and not let Neal's death be in vain.

Does it make her a terrible person to be pleading for Neal’s father to allow his son to die? She feels like she's betraying Neal by begging for his death. But if she doesn't convince Rumplestiltskin to release her, she believes she could be failing everyone. Neal wouldn't want his own life saved at the expense of the timeline and everyone else.

She wants nothing more than to get back to everyone else, to home, to finally begin to build her life in Storybrooke with Henry and her family. She wants the chance to know what that will mean, to discover just what her future holds there, not trapped here in the past. 

Somehow, the Dark One listens to her, wrenching her free. As Emma falls back into the portal, she thinks of one thing: home.

-/-

Emma lands hard against the ground, the dewy grass doing little to soften her fall. As she flexes her fingers through the wet blades, she realizes she isn't in the Dark One's castle or even the barn. Looking up, Emma finds herself in front of a large home, it's exterior painted blue-ish gray. Standing, she brushes grass and dirt from her jeans and surveys the surrounding area.

She's in Storybrooke. She's driven down this street for patrol. She's pretty sure that one of Henry's friends lives a few houses down from the one she's at. Why did the portal send her here?

Hook and the woman are nowhere to be found. In fact, the sky is now bright, whereas it had been twilight when she and Killian had fallen through the portal. How much time has passed? Hours? Days? Did her delay with Rumplestiltskin cause her to come back that much later?

It's then when she notices her bug parked in front of the house. No one else in town owns a yellow bug, and she would recognize her car anywhere. But why is it here? She had left it parked outside of Granny's. Did someone steal it? There’s no way her parents would move it here.

Emma turns back to the house, frowning. She's not even sure who lives here. 

"Only one way to find out," she says to the air before darting up the stairs. 

She peeks in through the windows. The home is certainly lived in, decorated with nice furniture and books scattered about. Deciding it might be best to have a word with the owners to figure out why her car is outside, she knocks on the door. She waits a few moments before knocking again. No one comes.

As she stands on the front porch, Emma weighs her options. She has neither her phone nor her keys. She can’t easily take her car back, nor can she call her father for backup. Not that she needs it, considering her magic. She doesn’t even know where backup might be. The loft? Granny’s?

If she leaves now, there’s a chance her bug will be gone later. But it’s not as if she can camp out and wait to see who stole her vehicle. She spares one last glance into the house in an attempt to ascertain just who might be there, and the reason why the bug is outside. It’s then when something catches her eye – a familiar red jacket thrown over the couch.

Her intuition sparks. It’s her red jacket. Like her bug, she would notice it anywhere.

“What the hell?” Emma whispers as she presses closer to the glass.

Ignoring all professionalism, Emma moves to the door, channeling her magic at the lock. She hears the click, and pushes inside. If she gets caught, she could lie and say that she heard a strange noise. 

God, she’s being a terrible cop.

Emma creeps over to the couch, and lifts the jacket. It is definitely her red jacket. It has the same tags, same scuff marks. But how could it have gotten here?

Trembling, she looks around the room, her stomach dropping when she notices a familiar cluster of photographs on the shelf. Pictures of her with her parents and Henry sit on the shelves, copies of the ones she has at the loft. Emma begins to feel sick. Could she be dealing with a stalker? She wishes now more than ever that she had some backup before she walked into the house of crazy. She even wishes Hook had landed next to her.

Then Emma sees a picture of Hook – of she and him together. That doesn’t make sense, though, because Emma knows she hasn’t taken a picture with him. In the picture, they’re at Granny’s, and he has his arm wrapped around her. That’s never happened there. He’s even wearing modern clothes, and they’re both smiling. Could this be Photoshop?

Emma searches around for more photos, intent on figuring out just what is going on. That’s when she finds the framed photograph of her in a wedding dress.

She lifts the frame, both confused and afraid. It’s definitely her in the dress, standing at an altar – an honest to God wedding altar – in the arms of Hook. It’s a picture of her and Hook getting married. But they’re not even together, how can she be looking at a picture of her and Hook at a wedding?

Unless…

Oh God.

It can’t be.

Oh no.

What if…what if the portal didn’t just send her back to the future, but into the far, far future?

But that would mean—

That’s when the front door opens, and Emma comes face-to-face with herself.

-/-

"Here. This should help," her future self says, handing over a mug of hot chocolate. The top is sprinkled with cinnamon, just the way she likes. But her future self should know that. "It's got some rum in there, too. You—I—we look like we need it."

Emma huffs out a bitter laugh at the way her future self stumbles over the correct terminology. In the background, she can hear Hook on the phone, discussing the situation—  _ her _ . From what she can gather, it's Belle on the line. There's tension in his voice, but it's not directed at the other woman. They sound familiar, friendly even. Strange.

Her future self takes a seat on the couch next to her. She drums her fingers on her knees, and Emma can't help but catch the gleam of the rings on her left hand. She takes a long drink.

"You're handling this quite well," her future self comments, the surprise evident in her voice. Emma doesn't know what it means that her future self is shocked by her reaction. Shouldn't she know?

"Yeah, well, I just came back from the past. Nothing surprises me anymore," she replies. It's not a stretch for her to believe that the time portal sent her somewhere she shouldn't be. She went back in time, she could easily go too far forward. But everything else…

She glances around the room, to the books on the shelves and the pictures on the walls. There's a telescope in the corner, facing out the window. She wonders if it belongs to Hook. It seems like something he would like. 

Her future self watches her with concern. They may share the same face, but Emma feels as if she's looking at a stranger. How could this be her life?

"When in our time travel adventure did you come from?" the other her asks.

"What I thought was the end of it," Emma tries to explain. "Hook and the other woman had just jumped through the portal, and Gold held me back. I went through, thought of home, and boom, I'm here."

Her future self lets out a familiar shaky laugh. "Well, you made it home. Sort of. Your future home."

"Yeah," Emma agrees, feeling a little sick. It's a lot to take in. She can hear Hook pacing in the kitchen, his conversation with Belle still ongoing. He lives here...with her. "I just don't understand."

Her future self shrugs noncommittally. "I'm constantly reminded just how weird and unpredictable magic can be. But you'll get back to where you came from."

"You sound like Mom," Emma says, struck by the optimism in her future self's voice. Her eyes drift back down to the diamond ring. "But that's not what I was talking about."

Her future self follows her gaze to her rings and flushes. "He did a good job, didn't he?"

"Um. Sure." That's not what she had been thinking, but she can admit the ring is nice. It's just everything surrounding the ring that's throwing her for a loop.

Her future self's face softens. "If it makes you feel better, I know you're freaking out about...everything. I also know how much we hate being coddled. So let me tell you this: I am incredibly happy."

"But with him? Happy enough to marry him?" she says, lowering her voice to a whisper lest the Hook in the kitchen hear. "But he's..."

Her voice trails off, unsure of the right words to say.

"He's our best friend. He's incredibly passionate, driven, and devoted. And it helps that he's hot as hell and and an incredible kisser," her future self reminds her. "All things which you know at this point in your timeline."   


Emma remains silent as she absorbs everything her future self is saying. A small part of her wants to rebel and argue that she's wrong, but the thing is, she's not. Whether she wants to admit it or not, Hook is her best friend. She turns to him for support more than anyone else.  And everything else is true as well, but…  
  
"That doesn't mean I want to marry him."   


"And if you think back to Neverland, you couldn't ever imagine actually going through with kissing him, and you did." Her future self looks down at her ring, and smiles softly. "He keeps proving us wrong, and eventually we figure out that he's just another part of our happy beginning."   


As if on cue, Hook strides back into the living room. His expression is drawn into one of consternation. "Belle and the Crocodile are looking for the wand. When they find it, they'll bring it over immediately."   


"Regina texted back and said she and Zelena are working on a memory potion as we speak."   


"Wait--Zelena? But she's dead! That's how I ended up in this mess," Emma argues. It doesn't make sense that her future self would mention Zelena. She saw her die on the tape. 

Her future self and Hook exchange strange looks.    


"Yeah, well, things weren't what they appeared with her," the future Emma replies darkly. She looks to Hook. "Speaking of, your memories of coming back are still intact?"   


"Aye, love, I can still recall falling through the portal, and you landing shortly thereafter."   


Emma takes comfort in the fact that Hook isn't also here. She doesn't want to think about how he'd react to their future life. At the very least, she can't believe she's actually happy about being dosed with a memory potion. She's sure she wouldn't be able to function knowing this.   


"I wish they'd hurry up," she mutters. She sets her mug on the table, and rakes her hands through her hair. " _ Back to the Future _ Part 2 is not what I had in mind for today."   


"At least you aren't in the Wild West," Hook comments, looking proud of himself for his reference.    


"You've seen all of the  _ Back to the Future _ movies?"   


The disbelief in her voice must be evident, because Hook rolls his eyes. "Now, Swan, have more faith in yourself. You and Henry ensured that I watched many of your favorite moving pictures."   


Emma tries to imagine what that would look like, her and Killian curled up on the sofa together, Henry on the recliner, and they all watched the television together. The fantasy comes all too easy to her. Not wanting to linger on what that means, she turns to her future self.   


"The memory potion you said Regina and Zelena are making," Emma starts, grimacing at the Wicked Witch's name, "are you sure it will work?"   


"It's Regina. You know how good she is with these things," her future self answers, "and if you're worried about Zelena, don't."   


"You make it sound easy." Zelena had just been terrorizing them. She killed Neal. Her magic is the reason they are all in this mess. How can she trust her?   


"Look at it this way, love, even if Zelena were as nefarious as you believe, everyone has too much stake in getting you back where you belong safe and sound," Hook replies.    


Stakes like this, Emma thinks, looking around the house —  _ home _ . It's a home, warm and lived-in. The kind of home she had envisioned when she was younger and being passed from foster family to foster family.   


"None of this feels real."   


"Sometimes it still doesn't," her future self admits, "but it is, and it's good."

Her future self looks over to Hook, the two sharing expressions full of love, happiness, and awe. It's dizzying to witness, and Emma can't wholly imagine how it feels. She thought she had it with Neal once upon a time, but this appears different...more. But how can she have that with Hook?   


_ "He's our best friend. He's incredibly passionate, driven, and devoted. And it helps that he's hot as hell and and an incredible kisser," _ plays in her head.    


Could they really be this happy? Apparently, yes.   


Before she can ask anything further, Hook's phone dings, and he flips it open. It's weird how natural the actions are for him. Back where she's from, he barely even knows how to use the one she purchased for him to use while watching Henry.    


"Belle sent a message that they found the wand. Both she and the Crocodile will be over with it in short order."   


"Are you and Gold still feuding, or is that another thing that's also changed?" Emma asks. She's not sure she can imagine Hook and Gold ever offering one another olive branches, but she's never imagined being married to Hook either. And well.   


Hook laughs at her inquiry, but it's a hollow sort of thing. "We keep our distance."   


"We babysit Gideon."   


"Gideon is  _ not _ the Crocodile."   


Her confusion over who Gideon just might be is overwhelmed by her unease at watching what can only be described as "playful bickering." A voice in her head that sounds a lot like Regina says that she and Hook do the playful bicker routine enough in their own time, but it's a whole different experience to see it from the outside. She and Hook can't actually be that cute together, can they?   


The doorbell rings, cutting off the playful sparring, and the next thing Emma knows, Gold and Belle are striding into the house. Belle has a baby in her arms who Emma assumes is Gideon. Not wanting to dwell on the mental image of she and Hook playing with a baby, babysitting or no, she draws her attention back to Gold.   


"You're the entire reason I'm in this mess, you know," she tells him. If he hadn't held her back, she would likely be in her Storybrooke with her family and her Hook, not trapped her.   


"Be that as it may, Miss Swan, I'm also the reason you're getting home," he replies, annoyance evident in his voice. He turns to her future self. "Do you have the memory potion?"   


The future Emma glances at her phone. "Regina says it shouldn't be much longer."   


Gold rolls his eyes. "Much longer is too late. We need to get this version of you home. Now."   


With a flourish of his hand, a bottle appears. He hands it to Emma. "You will drink this."   


"How am I not surprised you have memory potions just hanging around?" she asks, eyeing the bottle with suspicion. "Is it safe?"   


"If I wanted you dead, there are easier ways to do it," Gold replies evenly, earning an admonition from Belle. He raises his hands in supplication. "Not that I have an interest in doing so."   


Hook is glaring at Gold, his expression downright murderous. Clearly the hatchet isn't completely buried. Her future self walks over to him, and grabs his hand, threading their fingers in a soothing gesture.

"So what, I drink this, and use the wand? Shouldn't we do this outside?"   


"Inside is fine. Fewer spectators," her future self says with a grimace. "We can magic up the resulting mess."   


"What you will need to do is open the portal, and as you jump in, take the potion."   


"That sounds complicated." What if she messes it up and she arrives somewhere completely different?   


"You'll be fine, love. I haven't seen you fail yet," Hook assures her. He's said that to her before, in the jungles of Neverland. She'd been astounded by his faith in her then. Not so much now, not with what she knows. 

She uncorks the bottle and sniffs the potion, her nose wrinkling in distaste. She takes a deep breath. She can do this. It's not like she hasn't done this before. She lifts the wand, concentrating her magic. She watches as it glows. She envisions the barn, Hook, and the strange woman.   


Emma takes one parting look back at her future. Her future self stands by Hook, their hands still entangled, watching her hopefully.    


She can do this.  
  
Find her way back home.   


Have this life, if she wants it. (She wants it.)   


The portal opens, and she closes her eyes. She places the bottle to her lips. Now or never. As she pushes herself forward, the magic pulling around her, she drinks and prays that it will work.   
  


-/-   
  


Emma's memory is a mess of  _ different _ memories — memories where she hadn't given up Henry, memories of a life where there hadn't been a curse, and the reality she knows now. What she doesn't remember is falling through a portal to the future, and meeting herself.   


"It worked."   


Killian exhales in relief beside her, as Belle visibly relaxes and hugs Gideon closer to her. Only Gold appears unaffected.    


"Now that that's taken care of, we will leave you to...whatever you were doing," he says before offering his arm to his wife. "Shall we, Belle?"   


Belle gives both Emma and Killian awkward one-armed hugs before joining her husband. After they leave, Killian says, "Remind me why we needed his help."   


"Because he had the wand we needed to send me home?" Emma replies as she types out a quick message to Regina. She powers down her phone. Gold will have to deal with any blowback. Emma just needs to relax.   


Sighing, she plops down onto the sofa. "Well, that was weird."   


"Aye," Killian agrees as he joins her.    


Their living room is a mess. With a flick of her wrist, her magic rights it all back into place. Normally, she dislikes using her powers for such mundane tasks, but she's a little too overwhelmed right now and just wants to sit.  She leans against Killian's side, his hooked ark automatically rising to wrap around her shoulders.   


"What do you remember?" he asks.   


"Thankfully, not this," she tells him. "I can remember being in Gold's castle dungeon thing, him talking about Neal, and boom, I'm back at the barn."   


"Well, I still remember kissing you that night, and every wonderful moment after." Killian reaches for her hand and lifts it to his lips. He places a kiss just above her rings. "And these are blessedly intact."   


There's something in his tone that startles Emma, a slight hint of mournfulness that isn't reserved for discussion of their marriage. But she knows Killian well enough to figure out what's wrong, so she does her best to assure, "You know I was incredibly into you back then, right? Like I had definitely one hundred percent fallen for you, I was just a little scared of admitting it."   


"I know, love."   


"Doesn't sound like it," she says before disentangling her hand so that she could card her fingers through his hair. "It was just the timing, that's all. Remember when we first met? Imagine if you fell from the beanstalk and into a time portal that took you here. I can't imagine you being happy to see that you're married to me."   


"Aye, but knowing that doesn't mean it was pleasant to witness."  
  
Emma tries to imagine how she would feel in that situation. As Killian had said, the thought isn't pleasant. Though the logical part of her knows they weren't always lovers, but enemies, she doubts it would be fun to see how a past version of Killian would react to realizing that he, in part, gave up his revenge for her.  
  
"No, it's not," Emma replies, "but, hey, despite both our hangups, we still got here. We got this." She gestures to their home around them.   
  
"Aye, love, we did."   


"And past me is going to be kissing the hell out of you shortly after getting back, so there's that."

"That you will." Killian's expression cracks into a smile. It then morphs into something delightfully wicked. “Of course, there’s nothing stopping the present you from doing just that.”   


“Doing what?” Emma asks, deciding to tease.  
  
She doesn’t get an answer, not verbally at least, but in no time at all his lips are slanting over hers. She’s not sure why her past self ended up here. Maybe it had been for her, who she is today, to remind her of how far she’s come. As they kiss, Emma can’t help but feel that she’s where she belongs – with her husband, in their house, nestled away in Storybrooke.   


Emma Swan is happy, because at the end of the day, she’s home. 

 


End file.
